Our Life
by nessva
Summary: Hermione writes a letter to explain her living situation. Oneshot. RHrH.


Dear Diary,

I've never written in a diary before, and right now I feel really stupid to be considering writing my most personal feelings on a scrap of parchment, but I need some sort of release. I know that Lavender has kept a diary for as long as I've known her, but this has never seemed my style.

I wish I could say that this is the way I wanted things to turn out, but it's not. I almost can't believe that we're at the end of our sixth year and Ron isn't speaking to me. Most of all, I can't believe that we broke up, after spending five years bickering to cover up the strength of our feelings for each other, I thought I had it made when Ron finally admitted his feelings to me when I was staying at the Burrow just before the start of this year. I was so, so happy in the knowledge that I finally didn't have to hide my feelings for him anymore; and I was so glad that Harry accepted us dating, especially with all that he's had to go through ever since this time last year, finding out that he must be a murderer or murdered. I know he still hasn't accepted it fully, not that I think I would be able to.   
Oh, I just remembered Harry's reaction when he found Ron and I making out in the bathroom, after his initial shock of walking in and seeing us, he just said, 'It's about time,' then turned and walked out, clearly smiling to himself. I'm so glad that he never felt like he was going to lose his two best friends, and I was so happy that Ginny and him became closer friends, although I did wish that they had become closer _before_ Ginny got over liking him.   
Oh well, I guess not everything works out the way you daydream about it, especially for me. So many people have said that I shouldn't be surprised that Ron and I aren't going out any longer, after all, he was much more immature than me, and then they all went on to list all his faults. What people don't seem to understand is that we were, are, still in love, deeply in love. Our lives have just changed so much that it's proved impossible to be in love and be human at the same time. That's why Ron won't speak to me, he said it hurt enough to be in the same house as me, that he just couldn't bear to speak to me every day, as it would tear him apart, and that this was the first time he was glad that we only had one class with each other. Even through my tears I knew what he meant that day. I guess I should exclude Harry from my 'people' statement above, he knows how much we are in love, having seen us first hand for our whole magical schooling career. Ah, I wish my thoughts weren't so fragmented.   
So, now it's the eve of the last week of the last term of my sixth year at Hogwarts, and I've lost not only my one true love, but also my closest friend. I wish that we could rewind our lives two or three years, so that we could discover each other earlier, and enjoy our time together for longer, the times we spent together, not just romantically, but the times when we would just lay somewhere and relax without talking, content with each others company and secure in the knowledge that we loved each other and that we would spend the rest of our lives with each other. I wish that someone had found a way to stop Voldemort from coming back, to stop him from terrorizing our lives in such a way that they are barely worth living anymore. I wish that we had never found out about the Order of the Phoenix, and never found out about the indescribably horrible things that the Death Eaters were planning for us. But most of all I wish that we could have just one moment together, one moment to forget everything and just be with each other, secure in each other's arms again.   
But wishing isn't going to do me any good. I have to face the reality of my life, the reality that I may never have a career as I'd imagined, whether it be with SPEW or doing anything else. Voldemort has already destroyed so many lives, killed so many people, but just knowing that he is back has driven many people to suicide, and those who are still alive still have to face their mortality, knowing that if he decides to kill them, they have no chance. I've heard people comment often that they wish another prophecy would be made, along the lines of Harry's, in hopes that they will be 'allowed' to live. Madam Pomfrey has had to deal with numerous cases of depression this year, mostly from fifth-years and above, those of us who are starting to work towards a career, and are now being faced to accept that we may not have a choice in either what we do with our lives, or simply how long we may live.   
The odd thing is, Voldemort hasn't been seen since the end of fifth year; his ever-growing league of Death Eaters have done all the horrible things that have happened since then. I know that is why Ron won't talk to me, why he won't even look at me. The Death Eaters have found so many ways to torture those who they know are in love, and Ron and I are easy targets, being so close to Harry. Rita Skeeter hasn't helped the situation either; after her year's break from journalism, she stopped writing horrible things about people and started writing a short-lived column in The Daily Prophet about love success stories. Unfortunately, Ron and I were mentioned nearly every edition; Dumbledore thinks that it was this column that gave the Death Eaters the idea to prey on loving couples, to spread the feeling of despair that has swept the Wizarding world. Half the couples that Rita mentioned in her column have had one or the other partner killed. Ron had the idea for us to break up publicly just before Rita's article was stopped by the Prophet. I wanted to keep our relationship going in private, not to even tell Harry (although I suspect he would have figured it out within a week), but he wouldn't have it, he was just so utterly terrified at the thought of losing me that we haven't spoken since.   
Regrettably, Harry has now been caught in the middle of this. He also rarely speaks to me now, but not for the same reasons; he's spent the last two months looking after Ron, who has needed Harry to help him through this. The closest Harry and I have come to talking in recent times is him sending me a sympathetic look when we're in the hall, eating dinner. I know Harry hates the situation, but I've been able to handle this, so far, much better than Ron. Just after Ron and I broke up, I told Harry not to worry about me, and that I knew Ron would need him more. I'm beginning to wonder if that is true.   
I feel like I'm cracking up with the stress of not being able to be with Ron. I have to keep forcing myself to put my personal suffering in context; there are just so many other people out there who have lost more than I have. At least I should try to make myself content with the fact that Ron is still on this Earth, and that I have the fortune to be able to look at him everyday, even if that simple fact is what is slowly eating me away. I suppose there is more than one type of casualty of war. At least most of those who have died have had the small favor granted to them that they were killed by the Avada Kedavra curse, which meant that they didn't suffer. I think that those of us who mourn suffer more. Sometimes I make myself sick when I go on like this, pretending that life isn't so bad. Well it is. 

Whoever said that writing in diaries was therapeutic should be locked up, and the key thrown away. This hasn't helped me at all. Why did I bother to try something that Lavender does? Everyone knows that we are opposites. I'm glad that each room at Hogwarts has a fireplace, because this parchment is headed there on a non-stop, one-way trip.


End file.
